Narrators symphony
What is this
These colours i see
These sounds i hear
These feelings i feel
These thoughts i think
what is this
What are fireflies, why do they fly?
What is the sky, how far does it stretch?
What is love, why is love?
Why is good how is bad?
Where does good and bad exist beyond the understanding of the average man and woman
What is this
Why am I here?
Why am I?
What am I?
Why do i ask so many questions?
Why , what do I seek?
What, why do i seek?
What is this
These suffocating schedules
These complicated relationships
These broken hearts and sunked dreams
These faces, these smiles
These egos, these hatred
Thy hatred
What is this
Why are we so focused on ourselves
That we forget that a we exists beyond an i
What is this
I remember such a boy who asked questions like these
Knowingly hitting the classroom door
Pretending to be focused somewhere else
Just so that people could laugh
I suppose he tried to extract some attention, some recognition, some identity, some love
Out of that act
I remember such a boy who asked questions like these
Taking up the blame for others talking
During the break time
Why did he do that?
I don't know, but
I remember such a boy who asked questions like these
Always jumping the ladder,
Impatient, lazy, from 1 to a million at a go
And he fell everytime
Why was he like this?
I remember such a boy who asked questions like these
I don't know what he wanted , what he was
But i know he is still there , he is all there is for me
And he tells me sometimes
He asks, does the world
Remember such a boy who asked questions like these
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